


before the night is through

by dizzy, waveydnp



Series: fics for people [6]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 19:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17884229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: Two strangers meet at a hotel in Dublin.





	before the night is through

**Author's Note:**

> written for ataraxia-25 on tumblr <3

There are few things Phil hates more in the world than public confrontation - his own, or someone else’s. At least… when he’s in the path of it. 

He’s meant to be checking in to his room right now, but there’s only one desk clerk available and she’s currently engaged in what seems to be a tension-laden exchange with the guy who theoretically would have been in the queue in front of Phil had Phil not essentially fled the scene at the first hint of a voice raised out of frustration. 

Now he’s standing off to the side pretending to be doing something on his phone while he listens to the woman tell the man repeatedly that his card is being declined and they don’t have any rooms for the thirty pound fifty he’s managed to gather up in physical money. At least a third of it is in coins that Phil knows came from the bottom of the man’s backpack, because Phil watched him kneeling just five minutes before digging it out. 

“Sir-” The woman says, her exasperation winning out over her customer service politeness. “If you can’t book a room then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man seems taken aback. “Are you-”

“Sir-” The woman directs her attention at Phil, who almost drops his phone. “Were you waiting to be helped sir?” 

Phil’s eyes widen. This is exactly what he didn’t want - to be involved in any way. 

“Uhh…” 

The clerk and the man are both looking at him expectantly. Waiting. It’s late enough that there are no other people around to diffuse the awkwardness and Phil feels like his skin is going to crawl right off his body. 

His choices are to be a weird gross skin-less monster with a hotel room or—

“Uh, no, I was—” He holds up his phone awkwardly to indicate… something. He’s not sure what, but honestly he’s hoping they can fill in the blanks so he looks less like a freak as he flees their inquisitive eyes and the unbearable tension of this moment.

His heart is pounding and his hands are clammy as he walks away. He’s not even sure where he’s going but then he sees a sign for the bar and thinks— yeah. Yeah, that could work. He’ll hide out in the hotel bar and nurse something fruity and sweet until he can summon up the courage to check into his room. 

And until that poor sod with no money for a room is gone. 

He could weep with joy when he finds that there are enough people mingling in the bar that his arrival isn’t a noted thing. He dumps his bag unceremoniously on the ground beside a stool and climbs up, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. 

The bartender takes his order and his drink, when it comes, is tinged pink from the grapefruit juice mixer and tastes perhaps a bit too strongly of tequila but he won’t complain. It starts to warm his throat and settle pleasantly into his stomach almost immediately. 

He looks at his phone. His battery’s down to twenty percent, and he doesn’t think this bar is exactly the sort to have outlets built into convenient locations. It’s modeled to look like something old, and he thinks, a bit American - heavy wood with dark polished accents and drink menu names he only vaguely recognizes as references. 

Hopefully twenty percent will carry him through the end of his drink and long enough to get up to his room. The idea of falling face first into a bed sounds like heaven at the moment, his body tired from a full day of travel and his head tired from… well, living. 

But it’s not all that bad. He pulls up his recent text messages and sees the one from his mum checking in on him, and one from his brother that’s just a ridiculous picture of a sculpture that probably isn’t supposed to look as phallic as it does. Martyn had added the caption thought you’d like it and Phil, while not entirely interested in art for the sake of art, appreciates the effort Martyn is making to not be weird about the last conversation they had. 

you’re an idiot he texts back. He’s about to reply to his mum when there’s a jostling behind him and then a horrible thumping sound.

He spins around in his seat and feels that awful skin-creepy-crawly feeling again when he sees the man from the front desk sprawled across the floor with Phil’s bag at his feet.

“Mate are you fucking kidding me? Who leaves their shit on the ground like that? It’s fucking dark in here.”

“Sorry,” Phil chokes. He fights the urge to flee again and hops down to try to make himself useful somehow. He reaches a hand out to help the guy up.

He is waved off rather harshly. “Don’t— Just fucking— pick up your shit, mate. I could’ve broken something.”

Phil can’t really blame the bloke for being a little less than polite. The scene from earlier would have been bad enough, but now this? He must be absolutely mortified.

Hell, Phil is mortified, so he can only imagine the awful feelings swirling around in this guy’s guts right now. He knows he should shut up and get back on his stool and pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened, but some other part of him that he wishes wasn’t there is desperate to offer some kind of comfort.

He wants to think it’s about being kind to a stranger who’s very clearly having a horrible day, but it’s probably just as much about soothing his own suffocating second hand embarrassment.

He picks up his bag and shoves it under his chair. “I’m really sorry,” Phil says weakly as he watches the guy pull himself up off the floor and rub at his elbow. “Can I— would you let me buy you a drink?”

The man gets to his feet by himself. Phil can practically feel the abrupt no coming his way, but then he stops short. “Fuck it. I could use a drink.” 

“Oh-” Phil can’t stop his surprised reaction. “Oh, yeah - yes. Okay. What do you want? They’ve still got my card, I can just-” 

He’s cut off. “Margarita. And - do you do chips here?” He’s looking at the bartender now, who wandered over at the new arrival. “I want chips.” 

“Sure, we can put in an order with the restaurant.” 

She waits patiently, until Phil realizes what she’s waiting on. “My tab,” he says. 

“Lester, right?” She asks. 

He nods and then she’s gone again, leaving Phil with a surly stranger occupying the stool beside him. 

He can’t stand the silence for long. “I’m Phil,” he says. 

His new definitely-not-friend has already plucked a napkin from the stack of them and is intently shredding it. “Dan,” he says, without looking up. 

“Dan,” Phil repeats. “I’m sorry about my bag.” 

“You already said that.” Dan doesn’t sound quite so cutting now. Just - tired. He sounds very tired, about as tired as Phil actually feels on the inside. 

“Well that’s because I’m double sorry.”

“Ha,” Dan says, instead of actually laughing.

Phil risks a sideways glance and sees Dan rubbing his elbow again. “Is that— are you ok?”

“Look man. I appreciate the drink and all, but you don’t have to try to talk to me just because you’ve seen me make an ass of myself twice tonight.”

Phil looks down at his drink. He feels like a child again, like how he’d feel when his dad would shout at him when he did something wrong. 

As soon as the bartender brings the margarita he’ll get his card back and check into his room and maybe even have a little cry before he goes to sleep. He picks up his drink and tips it back, chugging two gulps before his throat starts to burn with the cold and the alcohol and he has to stop. 

He can’t even do this right.

There’s a chuckle beside him. “Drinking to forget, are you?”

Phil turns his head and musters as much asshole energy as he can. “Thought you didn’t want to talk.”

His asshole energy must be as lacking as his actual energy, because it actually makes Dan smile. “Yeah. Guess I don’t.” 

He turns to the drink and the small plate of chips the bartender is placing in front of him and gives her a little nod of thanks. It takes Phil all of forty seconds before he blurts out, “I ran away from my family.” 

Dan looks at him, one eyebrow lifted. “Sounds like a story there.” 

Phil shrugs. “What about you? Do you have a story?” 

“Yes,” Dan says, then deliberately expands on nothing at all. 

“Stupid question I guess,” Phil says. “Everyone has a story. Some of them are just dead boring.” 

“What’s a boring story to you?” Dan asks. “How can you make that judgement call on someone else’s life? You don’t know what’s fulfilling for them. You don’t know what gives their life purpose.” 

“You’re making it easier not to feel bad for you, I’ll give you that.”

Dan snickers as he takes a sip of his drink. “I’m good at that.”

“At what? Being a bit of a dick?”

Dan licks some salt of the rim of his glass. “Alienating people.”

“So… being a dick,” Phil says. This drink is going straight to his head.

Dan shrugs. “Whatever you want to call it.”

“Well it’s you loss, buster. Now you don’t get to hear my very un-boring story.”

Dan turns his head to look at Phil. “You know, I didn’t actually ask.”

“Fine.” Phil leans over and snatches a chip off Dan’s plate and pops it into his mouth.

“Oi.”

Phil scrunches his face up a little. “These are not good.”

“Bar food rarely is,” Dan says.

“It’s from the restaurant.”

“Yeah, the shitty hotel restaurant.” Dan takes a bite of his own. “It’s not that bad. It’s good when it’s the only food you’ve eaten all day.”

“Why haven’t you eaten all day?” Phil asks.

Dan raises his eyebrows. “Thought I was a dick and you were done feeling sorry for me.”

“Maybe I’m curious to know the reason why you’re a dick today.”

“Maybe I’m a dick everyday,” Dan says. “You don’t know my life.”

“I know you’ve got bad taste in chips,” Phil says. “And - and your cocktail choice is basic.” 

Dan snorts. “That’s me. Basic bitch. What about you, Mr. Fruity Cocktail?” 

“It’s tasty.” Phil refuses to be shamed. 

He halfway expects Dan to call it girly, too. He’s prepared to steel himself against an insult like that. 

Instead Dan shrugs. “Yeah. Probably is. But I like tequila. Give me enough of it and I’ll get well pissed.”

“Probably not a good plan when you’ve not even got somewhere to sleep.” As soon as it leaves his mouth he realizes the drink really is hitting him. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“And here I thought you were a nice guy.”

“I am. Usually.”

“Can that guy come talk to me for awhile?” Dan asks, the tone of his voice shifting so suddenly Phil has half a mind that he’s imagined it. “I’ve had a really shit day. Accompanied by a mostly shit life and a nice guy is someone I could talk to right now.”

He sounds so… small.

“Oh,” Phil says quietly. “I’m really sorry. I thought we were— I was just trying to match your—” He cuts himself off. “Sorry.”

“S’fine,” Dan mumbles, licking some more at his salt. “Maybe I’ll be a sad drunk tonight.”

“What kind of drunk are you usually?” Phil asks. 

Dan chuckles. “Horny.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, mate, I’m not gonna hit on you. You’re safe.” His voice is cutting and Phil feels like he’s missed something.

“What? What d’you— why would I assume you’d hit on me?”

“Shit, I dunno.” Dan scrubs a hand down over his face. “Sorry. I keep forgetting you don’t actually know anything about me.”

Phil doesn’t know what to say to that either. He takes another sip of his drink and hopes the buzz he’d felt earlier will return. It’s easier to talk to people when he doesn’t feel quite so much like himself.

“I probably should’ve stuck with the whole ‘I don’t want to talk’ thing,” Dan mutters. “Then I wouldn’t have made you feel bad.”

“I already felt bad for tripping you with my bag,” Phil points out.

“And for having to witness my humiliation at the front desk?” 

“Uh…”

Dan chuckles again. “Yeah. I thought so.”

Phil feels at a loss for how to respond to that, so he backtracks. “If you did hit on me, I’d just be surprised. And maybe suspicious. You’re too fit for me.” 

Dan actually seems thrown by that. He looks at Phil like he’s waiting on something else to come out of his mouth, but Phil feels like it’s safer to be brave in small doses and that feels like plenty for the moment.

“You’re not- you wouldn’t need to be suspicious, mate. Trust me.” He finishes off his drink. “You’re like… fine. You’re fine.”

Phil tries not to feel too deflated. He’d thought for a second there… well, whatever he thought must have been wrong. 

“Thanks,” he mutters. 

The bartender comes back to check on them, noting their empty drinks. “Another for either of you lads?” 

Dan starts to shake his head but Phil speaks first. “Yeah. And do you do pizzas here? I fancy a pizza.”

“Sure,” she says, running through the list of options from memory. 

Phil looks over at Dan. “How does the supreme sound? You’re not like, vegan or anything are you?”

Dan snorts. “Not today.”

Phil puts in the order. He knows he’s fulfilled his obligation to this virtual stranger beside him but the idea of going up to his room isn’t quite so appealing as it was a few minutes ago. He knows if he did he’d just end up imagining Dan hungry and alone and a total mystery. 

Besides, Phil justifies, he’d have just ordered the same thing but as room service if he were alone.

“Mate… you know I can’t pay you back,” Dan says once the bartender is gone.

“Wasn’t asking you to.”

Dan digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Give me your number and I’ll send you a few pounds when I sort through everything.”

“You’re asking me for my number.”

“Yes.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow. “Thought you weren’t going to hit on me.”

Dan’s mouth falls open for a moment and then snaps shut again.

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” Phil says. “Just let me be a nice guy. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Dan sets his phone down on the bar and doesn’t have time to say anything before their drinks arrive. Phil thanks her and takes a long sip of his, eager to chase the tingle of that grapefruit-flavoured liquid courage. He’s enjoying the unique high of leaving this handsome stranger speechless.

“If you keep buying me drinks I probably won’t be able to stop myself hitting on you at least a little bit,” Dan warns. 

“Should I go ahead and tell her to bring one more over then?” Phil asks, before he can think better of it.

“Fuck.” Dan laughs, clearly still caught off guard. “You are… I don’t know what you are.”

“Now you just sound like my mum.” Phil grins. “Except instead of saying fuck she’d use some weird northern pet name no one believes is real.” 

“Northern, eh?” Dan asks. “Guess I could have figured that out.” 

“Near Manchester.” 

“Oh, I-” Dan stops. “I’ve been there before.” 

“What about you?” Phil asks. 

Dan shrugs. “Reading. Or close to, at least.” 

“You’re even farther from home than I am,” Phil says. “How’d you end up here?” 

Dan shrugs again, the set of his shoulders staying sunken low. “Home is a relative concept. Is where you’re from actually home? At what point can that stop being true? Just because I was born somewhere doesn’t mean I have any ties to it.” 

“People who care that much about explaining how they don’t have ties to something usually just have ties they don’t want to talk about.” Phil’s in that place two drinks in where he knows what he’s saying makes sense in his head but he can’t always trust his mouth to translate. 

Dan seems to get it, though. “Emphasis on don’t want to talk about it, then.”

Phil mulls it over in his head. “I guess Manchester’s not really my home anymore. My parents don’t live there, and neither does my brother. He’s in London now.” 

Too, Phil almost adds, but then doesn’t. 

“I thought you said you’d run away from your family,” Dan says. “So is that your parents, or your brother?”

“Um. I guess I meant that more, like, metaphorically.”

“You’re metaphorically running?” Dan asks.

Phil sighs. “I don’t know. We were all together, for Christmas, you know. Obviously. And then I left. So I guess I was running literally. But also metaphorically, ‘cause I could’ve just gone home— like, to where I live, and it would’ve accomplished the same thing.”

Dan nods while he sips his drink. “I get it.”

“Yeah?”

Dan nods again. “Why’d you run?”

“Honestly? I got scared.”

Dan laughs. “Cheers to that.” He holds up his drink and Phil hits his own glass a little too hard against it and some of his drink spills out onto Dan’s hand.

“Oops, sorry.”

Dan just leans his head down and licks the moisture off his hand. “Mm, you were right. Tasty.”

“I know,” Phil says, drinking some more to drown out the feeling of embarrassment that threatens to break through the pleasant haze of alcohol. And the weird twinge he felt at the site of Dan’s tongue.

“So what are you scared of, Phil? Why’d you run from Christmas with your family?”

“I told them I was gay,” Phil blurts.

“Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“They didn’t take it well?” Dan asks.

Phil shrugs. “Didn’t really stay long enough to find out.”

“Well congrats anyway, mate. That shit’s terrifying.” He gives Phil a little smile. 

Phil manages a little smile back, something warm blooming in his chest. “You’re out to your family?”

Dan nods. “Since I was seventeen.”

“Did you blurt it out and then run away too?”

“Didn’t have a chance. Wasn’t actually a choice.”

Phil frowns. “What d’you mean?”

“Dad came home early from work one day and found me in the lounge with another bloke’s dick in my mouth. He told my mum later that night.”

“I think I’d have to move to Antarctica if that happened.” It was hard enough for Phil coming out in the vaguest of terms, just in it as a statement of fact and not an application to his life at the moment as far as his parents know. “My mum asked if I had a boyfriend and that felt like too much information to share to me.” 

Dan pauses and then seems to be aiming for a deliberately casual tone of voice when he says, “Do you?” 

Phil tries very, very hard not to smile. He doesn’t succeed. “No.” 

“But you still didn’t want to talk to your mum about it?” Dan asks, ignoring the information laid at his feet to continue the actual conversation. 

Phil’s actually glad. It’s nice that Dan’s asking. It’s nice just to talk about it with someone he’s not afraid of disappointing. “No. It’s weird, I’m really close to my parents, but my personal life is just something we’ve never talked about. I mean… I guess I know why I didn’t talk about it, but I’m thirty-one. I don’t know why they never asked.”

“Maybe they knew more than you’re giving them credit for,” Dan says. 

“I doubt it.” Phil scowls down into his drink for a second. “I think it’s more like they want me to stay their baby so much they just pretend I’m not an actual adult. And I guess I don’t help much. When I’m there, it’s nice to be spoiled a bit. I like my mum cooking for me and I like playing board games with them and… all the sorts of things we did when I was a kid. They treat me like I’m a teenager when I’m home so I end up acting like it.” 

“Wouldn’t know about that being spoiled bit,” Dan says. “But I get the rest. It’s like selective stunted development or something.” 

“Arrested Development.” Phil tilts his head. “I liked that show.” 

“Humor was good for the time, but it hasn’t aged well.” Dan stops talking when the pizza arrives. “Fuck me, that looks good.” 

“That’s a little beyond flirting, don’t you think?” Phil asks, surprising even himself.

“Tequila and food are two things that get me going, what can I say?”

“Well, hopefully this is better than those chips,” Phil says, picking up a slice. He takes a bite. “Mm, not too cheesy.”

“I don’t understand,” Dan says. “The words ‘too’ and ‘cheesy’ one after the other do not compute.”

“I don’t like cheese.”

Dan gives him a look. “Might have to rethink the flirting. It’s possible you’re not human.”

“Robots need love too, mate.”

Dan cocks an eyebrow. “Love, eh?”

“Just shut up and eat some pizza.” Phil shoves the plate towards him. 

“I dunno if you’re just humouring me because you feel sorry for me or whatever, but still… thank you,” Dan says, his voice pitched down with the sincerity of it. “I appreciate it tonight.”

Phil feigns ignorance. “Dunno what you’re on about. Just fancied some pizza.”

“Right.” Dan takes a piece and bites into it, moaning his enthusiasm. “Fuck me.”

This time Phil just laughs. “What were we talking about before you started begging food for sexual favours?”

“Pfft, this ain’t begging, mate. Just appreciation.” He takes another bite - a giant one, the man has a large mouth, Phil notices - and closes his eyes in his bliss. “I can’t think right now, I’m sorry. It’s probably not actually that good but right now it’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Dan’s right, it’s not that good - better than the chips, not as good as a nice Dominos at the end of a long day. 

“Have you really not eaten today?” Phil asks in a quieter voice. 

Dan shrugs. “Had some crisps earlier at the train station. Kind of in a… situation right. Need to save money where I can.” 

“Food seems like something that might be worth spending it on.” 

“I was saving for a room tonight.” Dan’s whole face tightens with tension and frustration. “Booked through this special cheap deal through a site online but my card fucking- anyway. Thought I had it in the bank, turns out I don’t.”

Phil remembers the scene earlier at the desk. “She wasn’t very nice to you earlier.” 

“I wasn’t very nice to her either.” Dan sighs and wipes pizza grease from his mouth with a paper napkin. He immediately starts glancing at the plate in front of them, at the three slices left. 

Phil pushes it a bit closer to him again. “I’m not actually all that hungry.” 

That’s a lie. Phil’s always hungry. It’s a defining characteristic of his personality. 

“I still see what you’re doing here.” Dan takes the pizza anyway. “You’re not a good liar.” 

“Then let me lie badly and don’t point it out,” Phil says. “It’s rude to call people out for the things they can’t change about themselves.” 

“You are an actual idiot, aren’t you?” Dan asks. 

“Well, I’m not a fake one.” Phil finishes his drink. When the bartner looks his way, he gives a brief shake of the head. He’s not sure another drink would be good for him, and he also does need to actually check into his room at some point. 

Not that he’s eager to leave Dan. In fact… he’s very much not. 

Dan seems to notice the little interaction. He chugs back the rest of his drink and gets up off his stool. “Reckon you’re tired, then. You should go. Thanks for being a nice guy.”

Phil stays in his seat though he really has no reason to anymore. “What’re you gonna do?”

Dan runs a hand through his brunette waves. It’s a fidgety gesture, one Phil has a feeling Dan doesn’t even realize he’s doing. He’s also biting down into the corner of his bottom lip and avoiding eye contact.

Basically he’s uncomfortable and Phil can feel it radiating off of him. It makes his own stomach churn anxiously.

“I’ll figure something out,” Dan says. He probably thinks it sounds casual.

“Right,” Phil says. He can’t help imagining himself in Dan’s situation. 

What would he do? Where would he go?

He knows the answer of course. He’d ring his dad and his dad would come save him. Arrested development and all that.

Does Dan have a dad he can call to come save him? He’d mentioned the train earlier so he obviously doesn’t even have a car he can sleep in for the night.

“Cheers for the drinks,” Dan says. “And the food.”

Phil just stands there awkwardly. It goes against every instinct he has to walk away from someone he now cares about a little bit, knowing in no uncertain terms that they’re in trouble.

“It’s ok, man,” Dan says, patting the back of Phil’s shoulder. “You can go.”

“Come with me,” Phil blurts.

Dan shakes his head immediately. “No, look, you’re nice and all but-” 

“I promise I won’t murder-stab you.” 

“Shouldn’t you be worried about me… murder-stabbing you?” Dan gives him a confused look. “I’m the weirdo stranger sleeping rough.” 

“And I’m the sad man who needs distracting from the fact that he’s scared of his mum,” Phil says. “So you’re doing me a favor.” 

Dan’s eyes narrow. “Wait, like, is that what you want? A favor? Because I don’t know what kind of kinky sex stuff you’re into-” 

Phil’s face goes flaming hot.

“No!” He scrambles to cut Dan off before anything else comes out of his mouth. “No, god, that’s not - I don’t want sex - I mean you’re fit and all, but like I said earlier, you’re way too cute for me and I’m not that kinky I promise-”

Dan puts his hands on Phil’s shoulders to stop him. “First of all, no. Second of all, calm down. I think you’re about to hyperventilate and I am not emotionally prepared to deal with someone else’s medical crisis right now. Take a deep breath.” 

Phil takes a deep breath. He notices that he and Dan are almost the same height, with Dan standing just the tiniest bit taller. He also notices that Dan’s eyes are deep and brown and he spends so long noticing that he’s actually just full on staring before he realizes it. 

“Mate,” Dan says. “Do you ever blink?” 

Phil forces himself to blink. “Sorry. My family thinks that’s creepy too.” Dan’s hands are still on him. They’re big and warm through the thin material of Phil’s jumper. “Will you wait while I get checked in? And then come up with me?” 

Dan starts to shake his head again. “I can’t, really-” 

“You don’t have to stay the night. Just watch a film with me. Keep me company. I’m not joking about needing distraction.” Phil’s eyes drop. “I really did run away. I don’t know anyone here. I just wanted to be somewhere that I felt like no one at all, but now that I’m here being no one is a bit lonely.” 

“I usually like it.” Dan’s hands fall away, but slowly so that his fingertips skim down Phil’s sleeves. “Company tonight might not be so bad, though.” 

“Company tonight might be brilliant and you know it. C’mon.”

Dan looks at Phil like he’s grown a second head. “I can’t show my face in front of that woman or she’ll call the police, I swear to god.”

“She literally can’t do that. I’m inviting you up, there’s no law against that. C’mon don’t you wanna are her reaction?”

Dan shakes his head. “Definitely don’t. You go check in and I’ll sneak past the front desk while she’s distracted. I’ll wait for you by the lifts.”

Phil giggles. “I feel like a secret agent.”

“You are, mate. Distract the evil fascist dictator while I slink my way to freedom.”

“Isn’t fascist dictator an oxymoron?” Phil asks.

“I’ll oxymoron your mum.”

Phil punches Dan’s arm playfully and then pulls his bag out from under the stool. He slings it over his shoulder and looks into those brown eyes again. “So. I distract border patrol. You sneak by and hide from enemy fire by the lifts. We go up to my room and watch a film. No murder-stabbing. No weird kinky sex.”

“None at all?” Dan asks. Phil’s face goes hot again and Dan laughs. “I’m taking the piss. C’mon. Mission is go.”

His heart is pounding like he’s just run a marathon as Phil walks up to the counter. It’s like the weirdness of this situation is really settling in, like the offer - no, the plea - he just made feels real finally. 

He’s taking a strange man up to his room. Two days after Christmas. In fucking Dublin. 

Who is he? Where has the real Phil Lester gone? The guy who goes on about three dates a year and keeps his hook ups contained to his rare and often alcohol enabled usage of the Grindr app. 

Phil Lester, who almost always deletes the app the morning after because he appreciates from a theoretical sense the right for people to have sex just for the sake of having sex but he still feels truly awful after. 

Not that he thinks he and Dan will have sex. But he’s also not naive; he’s a grown man who very quickly established a common bond of sexuality (or at least the part where they both liked to have sex with men) and a pattern of tentative flirtation. 

So the sex thing… it could happen. 

That’s the thought dominating his brain as he waits on the one person in front of him to finish requesting extra towels. 

The woman at the desk sees him and smiles a customer service smile. “Welcome back,” she says, and he’s sure if he weren’t nervous about Dan he’d be slightly mortified by the fact that she clearly knows he fled earlier. 

Checking in doesn’t take long, at least. He tucks a packet with two key cards into his pocket and heads for the lift. Dan’s skulking nearby, typing something on his phone. 

He looks up when he sees Phil, then immediately puts his phone away. “Oh good, you didn’t take the stairs up just to avoid me.” 

“Shut up,” Phil says, sticking his tongue out at Dan. “Why would I do that after I had to convince you to come up with me in the first place?”

Dan shrugs. “Because you’re allowed to change your mind.” He pauses, then repeats it. “You are allowed to change your mind. If you want me to go at like, any point-” 

“Shut up,” Phil says again, then pushes the button for the lift. The doors part instantly. “Fourth floor.” 

Dan steps in beside him. “You’re bossy.”

“Usually I’m not. Actually, pretty much never. I guess you bring that out in me.”

“Or maybe it’s the booze,” Dan says.

The lift doors close and Phil punches the fourth floor button. “I’m not that drunk.”

“Come on,” Dan says disbelievingly. “You must be at least a little pissed up to invite someone you barely know up to your room.”

“People do that all the time, though, don’t they?” Phil asks, leaning against the wall. The lift starts up and Phil closes his eyes. He hates this part; it makes his stomach coil with nausea when that unnatural jolt hits and they start moving upwards in a little steel box. He’s glad they’re only going up a few floors. 

Dan is leaned up against the wall. He doesn’t seem to be bothered in the least. “Well… yeah. I guess they do. I guess it feels different if there’s sex involved.”

“But doesn’t that make it like… worse?” Phil asks. “If you actually think about it.”

Dan cocks his head and looks at Phil with an expression that suggests fondness. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

“It’s not that strange,” Phil says. “You already know me better than half my mates.”

“I don’t have many of those,” Dan mutters, looking down at his feet.

The lift doors open and Phil steps out. Dan follows behind as Phil works on remembering his room number and digging a card back out again. 

“I reckon I have enough,” Phil says. “But pretty much none of them know me at all.”

“Oh, so you are still a mystery, Phil - what was your last name again?” Dan asks. 

“Nope,” Phil says. “I’ll let that one stay a mystery.” 

If Dan asked a second time Phil would probably crack, but he doesn’t. 

Phil leads the way into the hotel room. It’s nice, but nothing extravagant - a king bed to accommodate for how he hates his feet hanging over the edge. Along one wall is a writing desk with a spinny chair that he’s sure he’ll never actually sit in, and across from the bed is a television sat on a nice wooden stand with dresser drawers under it. 

“No mint on the pillow. You got took, mate,” Dan says, dropping his backpack. 

Phil lets his own bag fall off his shoulder and settle on the floor beside Dan’s. “I’m just glad to be somewhere with a bed. I don’t know what it is about traveling, but it’s just exhausting, isn’t it? My flight was only forty five minutes - that’s not even enough time to watch two episodes of Coronation Street! But I feel like it was ten hours by how tired I am.” 

Dan’s grinning. “Coronation Street?” 

“Hush,” Phil says. “My mum and I bond over it.” 

“You’re close to her, yeah?” Dan asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 

Phil shrugs. “Yeah. I guess so. Are you? With your mum?” 

Or anyone, Phil wants to ask, remembering Dan’s family comment. 

Dan just gives a vague shrug. “I guess.” 

It just opens up even more questions that Phil isn’t brave or bossy enough to ask. If Dan’s got a mum he’s not on bad terms with, why is he stuck with no money? Why is he even here in the first place?

He’s quiet so long Dan must think he’s not interested in following that line of conversation any longer. He flops back onto the mattress and groans. “God.”

“Comfy?” Phil asks.

Dan nods. “Doesn’t even matter that a hundred strangers have probably busted a nut all over these sheets. Feels incredible.”

“Ew!” Phil squawks.

Dan laughs. “Too much for you, Mr. Sensitive?”

“Don’t wanna think about sleeping in strangers’ bodily fluid, thanks.” He kicks off his shoes and climbs up on the other side of the bed. 

“Lie down though,” Dan urges. “It’s a cozy jizz bed.”

Phil stretches his leg out to kick him. “Shut up. That’s awful.”

Dan reaches out and grabs Phil’s foot. “You know I’m just gonna keep doing it if I get a reaction like that.”

God, Dan’s hands are big. Even wrapped around his foot, Phil feels something. Something hot and needy, a flash of an image of Dan’s hands in other places, wrapped around something else…

Dan lets go. Phil’s kind of disappointed but it’s probably for the best. His tipsy brain is all too quick to jump to thoughts he probably shouldn’t be having. 

Instead he flops back and his head hits the pillow and he can’t contain a groan of his own. 

“Right?” Dan asks.

“This might be the comfiest hotel bed I’ve ever laid on,” Phil says, rolling over and pressing his face into the pillow. “Don’t even care about the jizz.”

Dan laughs. “Not that strangers and jizz is always a bad thing. I mean, you know, some fun nights happen involving both…” 

“I hope you’re talking about sex and not like, breaking into someone’s house to wank on their sheets.” Phil scrunches his face up. 

“You idiot, of course I mean sex.” Dan laughs. 

Phil sighs and then wistfully - and entirely without any actual thought - says, “I miss sex.” 

Dan looks at him and lifts an eyebrow. “You miss it? Where’s it run off to?” 

He immediately feels awkward for mentioning it. “It’s hard to meet people when you don’t like clubs.” 

“You could have just stopped at hard to meet people.” Dan sits uprolling his neck side to side. “Alright, can’t keep laying down or I’ll actually fall asleep.”

“You could,” Phil says. “If you needed to.” 

He’s not sure what he’d do in a hotel room alone with a man sleeping in his bed, but he’d figure something out. His Switch is in his bag… hopefully. Unless he left it at his parents house. He did pack in a bit of a hurry.

But Dan just ignores him. “You promised me a film. Come on. I’m gonna judge your tastes, fyi, so pick carefully.” 

Phil grins. “No picking required. I have a little hotel room tradition. It’s not a night away if I don’t watch—”

“Wait, wait,” Dan interrupts. “I wanna be surprised. You set it up and I’m gonna shower real quick, yeah?”

“Oh,” Phil says, sitting up against the headboard. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

“It’ll be really quick,” Dan reiterates. “Not five minutes.”

Phil nods. “Take your time.”

Dan eyes him carefully. “You’re not gonna christen the sheets with your own jizz while I’m gone, are you?”

Phil’s honestly surprised at this bloke’s ability to scandalize him. “No!”

Dan shrugs. “‘Cause you know, what you said about sex…”

“I’m not gonna wank while you’re here,” Phil says, slipping his legs under the duvet because he feels strangely exposed now.

“You can, you know,” Dan says, voice suddenly gone low. “I’d… wait. Or whatever.”

“Whatever?” Phil asks.

Dan nods.

“Go have a shower you lunatic,” Phil says after a long pause that he probably shouldn’t have allowed himself. “And make it quick. I’m keen for this film now.”

Dan chuckles and grabs his backpack. Phil waits til the bathroom door shuts quietly before grabbing the remote and figuring out how to turn on the telly and order the film.

He’s pleased to find that Dan hadn’t been kidding about making it quick. He opens the door and steam wafts into the room after what feels like just a few minutes. He’s wearing red plaid pj bottoms and a long sleeve green and brown camo shirt. 

“Wow,” Phil murmurs, taking him in. “That’s… a look.”

“Don’t judge my nighttime fashion, you.”

“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”

Dan narrows his eyes. Again. Phil’s never felt like a suspicious guy before tonight. “About what?”

“Sleeping with m— in here. Sleeping in here.”

Dan smirks, then gets distracted by what’s on the tv screen. 

“Speed?”

“Yeah,” Phil says defiantly. “Problem?”

“Do I have a problem with baby Sandra and baby Keanu? What do you take me for?” Dan settles onto the other side of the bed. His voice drops with a note of sincerity when he adds, “Seriously, though. Thanks for the shower. And the food. And the… company.” 

“Has it made up for gawking at you while you fought with the desk clerk and tripping you with my bag?” Phil asks. 

“Hmm.” Dan pretends to be considering it. “I don’t know. Jury’s out on that one.” 

“Jury’s out,” Phil repeats. “That sounds so American.” 

“I’m a product of the media I consume. Now come, start the film. Feed that idiot juice right into my brain skull.” 

Phil’s laugh is genuine. “I don’t understand half the things you say.” 

“You’re not the only one, mate,” Dan says. He looks warm and comfortable learning back against the headboard, cheeks still pink from the shower and curls damp. 

“Are you still hungry?” Phil asks, as the movie starts. “I can always order room service.” 

Dan gives him a strange look. “Is this some weird kink, feeding me?” 

“No!” Phil says defensively. “I just like food.” 

“Uh huh. Not sure I believe that. But I’m stuffed, anyway,” Dan says. “Chips and pizza, plus the booze… I’m going to sleep well tonight. Wherever I do sleep. Shut up, that wasn’t an opening.” 

Phil grins. “Fine.” 

Dan really does look _awfully_ comfortable where he’s at. Somehow Phil doesn’t think it’ll be a hard sell to get him to stay anymore. He starts the film and leans over to turn off the lamp on his side of the bed and Dan does the same.

It’s dark in the room now save the glow of the screen. Phil keeps his eyes faced forward, though his mind is admittedly not focused on the film. Not at all, actually.

Approximately one minute into the opening credits Dan yawns and says, “Would it be weird if I just… laid down a little?”

Phil grins. “A little?”

“Yeah, you know,” Dan says. “Just like, a little lie down.”

Phil giggles. He actually _giggles_. “Why don’t you have a proper lie down and stop pretending you’re not going to spend the night?”

Dan huffs. “M’not pretending.”

“You’re literally wearing pajamas.”

“Well… your mum.”

Phil giggles again. He’s still slightly buzzed and his underlying exhaustion is making everything feel nice and happy and floaty. “Yeah I know.” He reaches out and shoves at Dan’s shoulder playfully. “Me mum,” he says, in his best imitation of an Irish accent.

“That was terrible,” Dan says, mockingly disappointed.

Phil’s grinning as he goes ahead and lies down, hoping Dan will follow his lead.

He gets instantly impatient when Dan doesn’t immediately follow suit so he rolls over closer to Dan and grabs his arm to pull him down.

“Oi!” Dan squawks but he’s laughing as he allows himself to be manhandled into a prone position by Phil’s clumsy hands. “Abuse,” he murmurs, looking into Phil’s eyes once he’s laid down. 

“It’s not abuse,” Phil says. “It’s just enthusiastic affection.” 

“Are you the affectionate sort?” Dan asks. 

“Maybe.” Phil’s hand is still on Dan’s arm, but he lets it drop away now that he feels like it’s been pointed out. “With people I like. I’m… tactile. I’ve been told.”

“Hello, tactile, nice to meet you. I’m a sad lonely touch starved introvert.” Dan’s voice is dry though his eyes are still soft. 

“Touch starved.” Phil rolls the word around in his mind. “That sounds awfully sad.” 

“It’s not,” Dan says. “Usually.” 

“Usually?” 

“Right now I could maybe do with a bit of touching.” Dan’s words hold the sort of invitation that can easily be picked up or passed over, and Phil knows it.

He’s been going back and forth in his head about this for almost the entire two hours they’ve known each other. 

“Touching is nice,” Phil agrees. 

“You’re nice,” Dan says. “Seriously, like. I don’t even get it. You fed me, you bought me drinks, you let me use your shower, and now you want me to sleep here?” 

“Maybe it’s just because I think you’ve got a cute butt?” 

Dan snorts. “Please. I’ve got a pancake ass and if you actually checked me out you probably know that. Unlike you, Mr. Bubble Butt.” 

“You checked me out, too?” Phil can’t help but sound pleased. 

“Yeah, the whole time you were trying to bolt after they wouldn’t take my card,” Dan says. “And also when you walked away to check in. And maybe in the hallway when you were looking for our room…” 

“Shut up,” Phil says softly. 

“Why don’t you come over here and make me.”

Phil doesn’t even try to pretend it’s not what he wants. He shuffles over a little so their shoulders are pressed together. “Will that shut you up?”

Dan smiles. “Only because I can’t see your butt when it’s under the blanket.”

Phil forces himself to turn his head back in the direction of the film they’re doing a very good job of ignoring. “I bet you don’t have a pancake ass,” he says casually, his insides are starting to feel downright squirmy.

“I knew you hadn’t actually looked,” Dan says smugly.

“I did, trust me,” Phil insists. “It’s just hard to tell in jeans that tight.”

“I’m not wearing jeans anymore.”

Phil chuckles. “You gonna get up and give me a show?”

“Mm, think you should give me one first,” Dan says, his voice velvety and low.

“Ha. Yeah right.” Phil only wishes he could be that bold.

“You’re still wearing jeans,” Dan points out. 

“Oh,” Phil says, hands brushing the denim on his thighs like he needs to check it’s true. “Guess I am.”

“That can’t be comfortable,” Dan says.

“Is this a ploy?” Phil asks, turning his head to look at Dan again.

Dan grins. “Absolutely.”

“Well… what do I get in return?”

“Besides legs that aren’t being suffocated by an unnecessarily restrictive fabric?” Dan asks.

Phil nods. “I’m greedy.”

“I’ll stay,” Dan says simply.

“You’ll sleep here?”

Dan chuckles. “It’ll be a hardship, but it’s worth it to see that ass again.”

Phil’s stomach flip flops a little bit. “You’re a perv.”

“Yup.”

His heart is in his throat as he stands up, going over to his bag. He thinks about bending over to open it but he doesn’t actually think it’d be that flattering, so he drops to a crouch despite Dan’s jeering in the background. 

He also thinks about not getting out pajamas at all, but he feels like he needs to keep this balanced. He doesn’t actually want Dan to think that he invited Dan to stay just for sex - whether or not they do end up having sex - so if Dan’s wearing bottoms, Phil will as well. 

What he does do is stand up and, still facing away from Dan, undo his jeans. He takes a strengthening breath before he pushes them down and steps out of them - standing in front of Dan in just his pants for a full ten seconds before he shakes out the folded up pajama pants and then gets into them one leg at a time. 

When he turns around, Dan’s definitely staring. His lips are parted slightly and his eyes look wide in the semi-darkness of the room. 

“Wow,” Dan says. “Can’t complain about that show. Except maybe the end part where you put more clothes back on.” 

Phil gets back onto the bed, this time laying much closer to Dan on purpose. “It’s more than you gave me.” 

“I couldn’t change in front of you,” Dan says. “I’m not wearing pants.” 

“Oh.” Phil doesn’t know what to make of that information. “That’s hot.” 

Dan laughs. They’re so, so close now. “I mean, the fact that I haven’t done laundry in a week is less hot, but sure. I’ll take it.” 

“I wonder if this hotel has a laundry service…” Phil muses. 

“Dunno,” Dan says. “Not really what’s on my mind right now. But it’s cute that your mind went there. You just can’t stop taking care of me, can you?” 

“What is on your mind?” Phil asks. 

“Definitely still your ass. Nice Calvins, by the way.” 

Phil absolutely has to laugh at that. “What kind of flirting is that? ‘Nice Calvins, by the way.’” 

“Oi! No roasting me while I’m trying to seduce you!” Dan reaches out and shoves at him. 

“You’re no fun.” Phil grabs his hands before Dan can pull them back and uses them to draw him in even closer, until Dan takes the hint and properly puts them around Phil.

“Fine then. If I have to.” 

“You don’t have to,” Phil says. “I just want you to.”

Suddenly Dan’s hands are pushing Phil onto his back with confidence and Dan is hovering above him, nudging Phil’s legs open to fit in between them. “I was hoping you did,” he murmurs. 

“That’s not why I invited you up,” Phil somehow manages to say despite the way Dan is pressing up against him.

“And it’s not why I came up,” Dan says. “But I’m definitely not complaining.”

Phil reaches back to shove a second pillow underneath his head. Something about being flat on his back feels too much like… well, like sex. He’s going to enjoy the hell out of it if it happens but until it does he wants to retain some semblance of control over himself.

Because Dan’s broad shoulders above him and pants-less crotch pressed against his is making him feel like he could very spectacularly lose control. “Not complaining either,” he croaks. “Just don’t want you to think I’m some sort of predator.”

“I don’t mind being your prey.”

Phil can’t stifle his laugh at that.

“What did I say about roasting my seduction techniques?” Dan lowers his head and bites Phil’s shoulder through his t-shirt.

Phil’s quite sure it wasn’t meant to make his hips push forward, but that’s exactly the reaction he has to Dan’s teeth sinking into his skin, even with a layer of clothing as a buffer.

Dan grins and cocks one eyebrow. “That’s interesting.”

“Hush,” Phil says, putting his hands on Dan’s back. He radiates warmth in a way Phil immediately just wants to burrow into. He doesn’t - yet. Instead he limits himself to stroking up and down the impossible length of Dan’s body from shoulders to hips. 

“You keep telling me to be quiet.” Dan drops his head down until his curls tickle Phil’s forehead. The eye contact is so intense that Phil holds his breath out of fear of disturbing it with movement. “Either you need to admit you secretly like me being a noisy fuck or you maybe just need to find a way to make me shut up.” 

“Both?” Phil asks, hands coming to rest flat against Dan’s shoulder blades. 

“Oh, you’re smart.” Dan smiles and it’s lovely but then Phil loses track of it completely because he’s leaning up and in and his mouth is brushing up nice and close against that smile. 

It stays like that, a barely-there touch, for about five seconds before Dan is the one who loses patience with the tease. 

Phil has a number of first kisses under his belt. Some at the nervous end of a date. Two or three happened under the guidance of alcohol, a proper amount and not the three drinks he’s had tonight. One was a friend that ended in giddy laughter and the realization that there just wasn’t anything there. 

Approximately none of them have happened on a hotel bed in Dublin with a stranger who feels like he’s known far longer than a few hours. He’s not sure what’s going to happen tomorrow but he’s sure he’ll never forget this moment, for the moment itself as much as the kiss. 

It is a good kiss, though. Definitely the best Phil’s had in a while. He slides his hands up and closer to Dan’s neck, thumbs brushing along his jaw. He’s not expecting Dan to pull away with a stuttered, “Ah, fuck-” 

“Did I do something wrong?” Phil asks. 

Dan shakes his head. “Not bad. Just wasn’t expecting it. My neck is just like, a massive fucking g-spot.”

Phil doesn’t move his hand away. “Do you like it soft or hard?” He demonstrates each touch as he asks, fingers moving feather light down then stroking back up with a firmer point of contact. 

Dan looks almost drowsy. “Either.” 

Phil pulls Dan down gently by the back of his neck because he’s decided fingers aren’t enough. He wants to put his mouth on Dan’s skin, so he does, not just soft but so soft he’s teasing.

Dan makes a tiny tiny noise in the back of his throat but Phil doesn’t miss it. It shoots straight through him with a tingling warmth and it takes all his focus not sink his teeth in harshly and give up on all this restraint. Dan’s chest is already heaving and all Phil’s doing is ghosting his lips along his throat.

“I’m legitimately going to go mad,” Dan croaks.

“But like, in a good way?” Phil lets his lips graze Dan’s skin as he speaks.

Dan groans. “I dunno. Yes. I feel— ah—”

Phil delights in interrupting Dan’s babbling by adding the tip of his tongue to the gentle torture.

“Fuck you,” Dan grunts.

Phil laughs, pressing his forehead to Dan’s neck. He’s effectively ended his little game but it was worth it to wind Dan up that much in such a short time. “Maybe later.”

“Really?” 

He loves the genuine exhilaration in Dan’s voice. “ _Maybe_ ,” he says again. 

Dan suddenly drops down so his weight is on his forearms and his body is a whole lot closer to Phil’s. 

“Oof,” Phil says, not that he actually minds. 

“Sorry. Am I crushing you?” Dan asks. 

Phil shakes his head. “I like it.” 

“So no, but yes?” Dan grins. “You’re confusing.” 

“Your mum’s confusing!” 

“Why you’re bringing up my mum when I’m trying to kiss you is the _most_ confusing thing.” Dan doesn’t even give Phil a chance to reply again, just catches Phil’s mouth with his own. 

Phil is breathing heavier by the time he gets brave enough to slide his hands further down Dan’s back, cupping over his ass. It makes him feel hot in a dirty, bold way to know that there’s nothing underneath the pajama bottoms he’s currently touching except Dan’s bare flesh. 

“You lied,” Phil says. “No pancakes here. I’m an expert, I’d know.” 

“You’re an ass expert?”

“I’m a pancake expert,” Phil clarifies, then pauses. “Maybe asses too. I do like a good bum.”

Dan chuckles a breathy sound and Phil takes the opportunity to put his mouth on Dan’s neck again, this time without teasing. He kisses, up from the base, open mouthed and just a little bit wet, gentle but more than a graze.

Dan sighs and arches a little bit for more.

“You have a very pretty neck,” Phil murmurs.

Dan smiles. “Is there any part of me you _don’t_ like?”

Phil’s hands are still cupping Dan’s ass cheeks, still marveling at how thin the material of Dan’s pjs is and how squirmy it makes him to imagine pulling them down. He kisses up to Dan’s jaw where he nibbles ever so faintly against the bone.

“I don’t like that you’re still wearing your shirt,” he finally says.

“You trying to get me naked?”

Phil latches on to Dan’s bottom lip and sucks for a moment before pulling off with the slightest hint of teeth. “Maybe. If you wanted to.”

“M’asking what _you_ want.”

Phil takes a moment to actually contemplate it. His mind is pulled in a million different directions, down a million possible paths where this night could turn sexy and wonderful and he loves every single one of them, but none of them feel distinctly better than the other. He reckons he wants whatever happens naturally. Disappointment isn’t even an option if he gets to spend the night with this fit guy who makes him laugh and kisses back like he likes it just as much.

“Honestly,” Phil says finally, “Is it lame to say it doesn’t matter to me?”

Dan pulls back a bit, just enough to look at Phil’s face. “It doesn’t matter?”

“I just like kissing you.” He slides his arms up a bit to wrap around Dan’s back and squeeze as he rolls over so he’s on top. “I feel like I could kiss you forever.”

Dan opens his legs and wraps them around Phil’s waist. “So kiss me. I’ll strip later.”

Phil lets his weight melt into Dan’s chest and hopes Dan likes the half crushed sensation as much as he had. “Promise?”

“Mhm.” Dan’s eyes are closed, hands gripping either side of Phil’s face as he pulls Phil in for more kissing, the naughty kind, the kind with tongue that has Phil throbbing between his legs.

This guy knows how to kiss. Phil hadn’t been joking or deflecting in expressing his willingness to do this all night. To him it doesn’t feel like foreplay or a means to a more explicit end. He certainly doesn’t feel tired anymore and he has nowhere to be tomorrow; he’s going to memorize the shape of Dan’s mouth and the taste of his lips for as long as Dan will let him.

He loses track of how long they lay there doing just that, but he knows that at a certain point his lips feel numb his arms are starting to ache a bit from holding himself even partially up off of Dan. He pulls away with a reluctant groan, then rolls over so that they’re both on their backs, side to side. 

“Hey,” Dan says, pouting. “Where’d you go? I was enjoying that.” 

A glance at the clock on the nightstand tells Phil it’s been almost forty five minutes. “I haven’t snogged anyone for that long since I was at uni.” 

“I dropped out of uni,” Dan says. “Didn’t do much snogging while I was there. Just a lot of video game playing and wallowing in untreated depression.” 

“Ouch,” Phil says. “Uni wasn’t too bad for me. It was nice to be away from home and feel like I could sort out the whole fancying boys thing without worrying about my parents walking in on me.” 

“What’d you study?” Dan stretches his arms above his head, then settles back into the bed comfortably. Phil turns his head just to be able to watch, feeling comfortable knowing that the naked appreciation on his face won’t make either of them feel awkward. 

“Linguistics, then video production. You?” 

“What did I not study,” Dan corrects. “That would be law.” 

Phil makes a face. 

“Exactly,” Dan says. “That expression exactly.” 

“It’s brave that you dropped out, though.” 

“Brave?” Dan doesn’t sound like he believes that. 

“Yeah, of course it is. I’ve spent my whole life going through with things just because I was too afraid to say I didn’t actually want to be doing it.” 

“Well. That’s bleak.” Dan frowns. “That doesn’t apply to like… this…?” 

“Dan!” Phil reaches out and slaps Dan on the arm. “Shut up. Of course I want to be doing this.” 

He turns to face Dan, not on top of him like before but just leaning into him. He cups Dan’s cheek carefully and plans a slow, deliberate kiss on his mouth. 

“Fine.” Dan licks his bottom lip when Phil pulls away. “Just had to check.” 

“You’re sweet for checking,” Phil says, and he completely means it. “I get the feeling you’re just sweet all around, aren’t you?” 

“You are probably the only person to literally ever call me sweet.” Dan shakes his head. “Most people just think I’m a dick.” 

“That so?” Phil deliberately lets his eyes wander down. Dan gets it instantly and huffs a not-really-that-annoyed sound. 

“Perv.” Dan reaches out and puts an arm around Phil, guiding him in a bit closer. Phil accommodates the unspoken request, draping one of his legs over Dan and making himself comfortable in a fantastic cuddle position. 

“You like it,” Phil says. “Now stop distracting me when I’m saying nice things about you.” 

“You know I’m already in your bed, right? You don’t need to sweet talk me.” 

“I wouldn’t want to sweet talk you if you weren’t in my bed,” Phil says. It makes sense to him. “People who aren’t worth my sweet talking skills wouldn’t end up here to begin with. I’m very selective with the wooing.”

“Lucky me,” Dan murmurs, sliding his hand down Phil’s back to cup his ass. “Wow.”

Phil nudges his face in against Dan’s neck to hide his giddy grin. “What?”

“It feels even nicer than it looks.” Dan squeezes gently and Phil is reminded once again just how big Dan’s hands are. 

Phil giggles. “Shut up.”

“What, I’m not allowed to do any sweet talking of my own?”

“Mm, you are. But only if it’s genuine.”

“You genuinely have a very nice booty, Phil.”

Phil snorts. “Don’t say booty.”

Dan pushes Phil back just enough to nip at his bottom lip. “Booty,” he murmurs, his voice like warm honey. “Booty booty booty.”

Phil feels like a right pathetic idiot that something like that makes him shiver, but it does. He feels warm and safe all pressed up against Dan’s side with Dan’s hand just resting on his bottom and Dan’s teasing voice right there in his ear.

“Why do I fancy you so much?” Phil sounds far away, even to himself. “I don’t even know you.”

“You already know me better than most of my mates do.” Dan lies back and pulls Phil a little closer. “And I fancy you too.”

“You need better mates,” Phil says gently.

Dan chuckles, and Phil’s relieved he doesn’t seem to be poking any true sore spots. “Mate. I need better everything.”

“I dunno.” Phil reaches across Dan’s body to pick up the hand not respectfully groping his ass. He lifts it up and studies it in the soft light of the telly, baby Keanu’s face blurred in the background. “I think your hands are about as good as it gets.”

“You like big hands? I wonder why,” Dan teases.

“I like _your_ big hands,” Phil corrects. “What did we say about letting me sweet talk you?”

“M’just not used to it.” 

“Can I get you used to it?” Phil asks. “If I just do it enough?” 

He can see the conflict in Dan’s eyes and it briefly makes it his stomach tighten. Then Dan smiles a soft unguarded smile, dimple appearing faintly on his cheek. “Reckon maybe so. If you think you want to put up with me that long.” 

Phil doesn’t know if Dan is talking about the night or - or something else. But he finds himself recklessly wanting to plunge ahead either way. “I might. Just keep plying you with pizza and drinks-” 

“And baby Keanu and Sandra.” 

“And baby Keanu and Sandra.” 

Dan turns his head toward Phil. “And kisses.” 

“And-” Phil stops halfway through, leaning in to deliver on the promise right away for that one. The finishes speaking with his mouth still pressed against Dan’s. “Kisses.” 

When he pulls away this time he rests his head on Dan’s shoulder, content to just stare at the screen for a few minutes. He’s not really taking in much of the movie, but that’s alright. He’s seen it plenty times before. 

He likes thinking about how Dan’s hands feel even more. He’s still holding one of them but the other is in his hair, brushing through even though Phil knows what his hair feels like after a long day, the way clumps of gel keep some strands stuck together. The hand wanders down sometimes, as far down on Phil’s body as it can go, then caresses right back up. It’s a luxurious feeling, just being petted and appreciated. 

If Phil let himself really think about it he reckons he’d find it a bit mad so he doesn’t allow his mind to focus on the improbability of how his night turned out.

“Dan,” he says, because maybe if they keep talking he won’t feel a twinge of guilt like he’s doing something wrong. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” He rubs Phil’s earlobe between his thumb and forefinger very gently and then says, “But yeah. Go on.”

“What are you doing here?”

Dan turns his head. “Here, like, with you?”

Phil smiles and leans in for more kissing. He can’t help it, even though it makes him feel like a lovesick teenager. Or well, however old he was when he actually embraced his queerness enough to meet someone who made him feel lovesick. Dan makes him feel like that. 

“No,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re doing here with me. You’re making me happy.”

“You’re a sap, aren’t you?”

“I am right now.” Phil hitches his thigh up higher on Dan’s leg. “Let me have it, just for tonight.”

Dan cocks an eyebrow. “Only tonight?”

“Oh.” That pulls Phil up short. “I didn’t— no. Not if…” He trails off just looking into eyes so dark in the low light of the room that they look black. But like, a really warm pretty black, somehow. “Do you want more than tonight?” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Warmth rushes through Phil’s chest at that. This is crazy. This is ridiculous. They don’t know each other. What would his mum say? 

“Is that what you wanted to ask me?” Dan asks. 

“I…” He has to dig to remember what he’d been thinking about a moment ago. “No. I asked what you were doing here.”

“Like… here at this hotel?”

Phil shrugs. “Like, in Dublin. With… you know.”

“No money?”

“Um. Yeah.” 

Dan rolls back a little to stare up at the ceiling. He doesn’t let go of Phil, but Phil still feels a clench of fear that he’s crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

“Sorry,” Phil mutters. “I’m not judging you or anything. Just kinda want to… get to know you.”

Dan nods. “I wish you didn’t have to.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m a mess, aren’t I?” He sighs. “It’s nice being able to pretend things can be easy and kind of like… magical, like they feel right now.”

“Can I say something?” Phil asks.

Dan actually laughs at that. “Yes, Phil. You can say something.”

“I don’t think anything would have happened tonight if you weren’t ‘a mess,’” he air quotes with the hand that’s not trapped between his body and the bed.

“Is that your type, then?” Dan asks, his voice void of any malice. “Fuck ups?”

“You’re not a fuck up,” Phil says firmly. He doesn’t want there to be any confusion about that.

“How do you know?”

“I just do, so shut up. C’mere.” He tugs on Dan’s shoulder and pulls him onto his chest. “If you’re a fuck up then I am too. We’re both hiding away here, yeah?”

Dan lowers his head onto Phil’s chest and nods.

“So tell me what you’re running from,” Phil whispers.

“I got fired from my proper job and couldn’t afford rent in London anymore and had to move back to Wokingham to live with my mum until I sort myself out and I hate it. I got a shit job for now but I just hate it there so much I hate feeling exactly how I felt ten fucking years ago and knowing nothing’s changed and I haven’t managed any growth.” He spits it all out a mile a minute.

Phil wraps both arms tight around Dan. “That sounds like it’s life being an awful mess at you and not anything that’s your fault.” 

“You don’t know that,” Dan tries to argue. “I could have been an awful fuck up at my job and you wouldn’t know.” 

“Were you?” Phil asks. 

Dan sighs. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Then I trust your judgement and I believe you.” Phil knows how strange it is to feel such conviction when the reality is probably that Dan is right in pointing out that Phil doesn’t know him. 

But he doesn’t care. He’s not going to pretend to not feel this. The whole week, all his resolutions around Christmas and who he wants to be, have been about trying to do less pretending and more actually being someone who lets himself feel things. 

Dan’s as good a place as any to start. 

“You’re too fucking good,” Dan says. His voice is doing funny things and it takes a moment for Phil to realize that the shaking Dan is doing is actually crying. 

“Oh, Dan.” Phil sighs and hugs him even closer. “You know it’ll be alright, don’t you? You won’t be staying with your mum forever. You’re going to bounce back from this. You’ll have better things in your life.” 

“This feels like a better thing,” Dan says, shifting over a little to wipe his eyes. “But it also doesn’t feel fucking real.” 

“It is,” Phil says. “And you know what else? Wokingham’s not that far from London.” 

“What does - do you live in London?” Dan asks. “But you said-”

“Yeah. Moved from Manchester a few years back.” He lets Dan move away when Dan starts to squirm in his arms. 

Dan sits up and looks at Phil, eyes bloodshot and mouth quivering like tears still aren’t that far from the surface. “Fuck.” 

“I’m just… saying. You know. If Wokingham’s so bad, you can come stay with me sometimes.” 

Dan laughs, a shaky sound. “Seriously. You aren’t real.” 

“Or if you get job interviews,” Phil says. “Because you should be applying for jobs there still.” 

Dan touches his own face like it might not be there anymore. “Is this… like, are we being stupid? This is mad, isn’t it?”

Phil sits up too. He can tell Dan’s not joking even though Phil suddenly has the urge to laugh. “I don’t think it is.”

“No?”

Phil shakes his head.

“Tell me why,” Dan says.

“Maybe you should tell me why you think it is.”

“Because…” Dan starts. “We’re like… planning a future together. And I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Lester.”

“Oh.” Dan smiles. “Phil Lester… Philip?”

Phil’s nods. “That’s me.”

“That sounds like an old man’s name.”

“Shut up,” Phil says with a tone totally unbefitting his words. “What’s yours?”

“Howell.”

“Daniel Howell?”

Dan nods.

“I like that. I think that’s a good name for my husband.”

Dan’s smile drops. “Your… what?”

Phil can’t contain his laughter any longer. He laughs long and loud at the look of pure fear on Dan’s face. “I’m taking the piss!” he wheezes.

“Oh my god, you fucking asshole.” Dan reaches out and shoves him hard in the shoulder. 

Phil grabs him back and pulls him back down onto the bed and climbs right on top of him. “We’re not planning a future together,” Phil says gently, eventually, after he’s stopped giggling. “Not in the way you’re saying, anyway.”

Dan is beautiful pinned underneath Phil. His hair is dry now, curly and wild and he’s smiling as he slips his hands up underneath Phil’s shirt to touch his skin. “You’re soft,” he murmurs.

“I moisturize.”

Dan laughs a cute little breathy laugh. “I should get on that.”

Phil ignores that. “We’re making plans to see each other. You’re making plans to get out of Wokingham. We’re not planning a wedding. I’m not even asking you to move in with me or anything like that. It’s not mad.”

“So what are you asking?” Dan asks. 

Phil grins. “If I can touch your bum once in a while.” 

“Like, exclusively?”

“Mm, no. I think I’d like to touch other parts, too. If you want.”

Dan laughs. “No you spoon, I mean like… are you gonna want to touch other bums?” He’s got a hand on Phil’s thigh, stroking the hair there absentmindedly with his thumb.

“To be honest that’s not really my style?” Phil says cautiously.

Dan nods. Then a smile breaks out slowly, denting his cheek with that adorable dimple. “I like that.”

“And you… don’t want to touch other bums, either?” Phil asks. It feels weirdly presumptive even in the face of Dan already having asked him that question. But he desperately wants to know the answer. 

And he desperately wants the answer to be no. 

Dan shakes his head. “Think I can only handle one bum at a time in my life.” 

“Besides your own, I hope.” 

“Besides my own. Idiot.” Dan laughs then slides a hand around for a cheeky grope. “Yours seems like enough to keep my hands full, anyway.” 

Phil beams at him. “Good. I like that.” 

“Do you?” Dan murmurs, voice dipping shyly. “My hands, or-”

“You not touching other bums.” Phil leans in and kisses him, soft and sweet. “I like it a lot.” 

“This is so weird,” Dan says. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve even had someone to take it slow with?” 

“I reckon there are a lot of things about you I don’t know,” Phil says softly. “But I’m excited to learn them all.”


End file.
